A Heap of Broken Images
by Little Dragon-kun
Summary: Albion is in tatters. All around her, the country is being ruined. Like a heap of broken images, the Queen's world has shattered everywhere she looks... post-Fable 3, character death and torture
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: This was another idea I thought of while writing 'A Hyper-Lethal Hero'. This is much more depressing though, and it is filled with angst, so be warned. Numerous accounts of heartbreak and character death included. I don't own Fable; that is Lionhead Studios' property. Warning: post-game spoilers, character death and torture in later chapters.**_

_**Summary: **__Albion is in tatters. All around her, the country is being ruined. Like a heap of broken images, the Queen's world has shattered everywhere she looks…_

***Chapter 1***

Albion was in a decline. People were dying every day, too fast for those who were alive to dig their graves. Starvation gripped the nation, an even bigger problem since the Crawler attack. Poverty forced more than fifty percent of the remaining population onto the streets. No matter where you looked, there was innumerable suffering. One question kept being asked everywhere: Where was the Queen?

One only had to look at Bowerstone Castle to answer that.

_*Bowerstone Castle*_

The Queen sat on her throne, broken. Devoid of will. Her heart shattered.

'_Everything is gone. My country is destroyed, and there is nothing I can do,' _she thought. The Queen put her head in her hands, "I shouldn't be ruler of this country."

She had lost everything. Her country was in ruins, the people were suffering, and her heart was empty. The people she cared so much about were gone from her life.

Elliot was the first to go, the first casualty in the revolution more than two years prior. Logan had him executed as punishment.

Reaver might have been a bit of an asshole, but the Queen had to admit he was very helpful during the year before the Crawler attack. He had left Albion soon after, leaving without a trace.

Ben Finn. The one who had pulled her out of depression. He was always brave, always looking on the bright side, even with things at their absolute worst. He might've been a bit of a flirt, but the Queen did fall for him. Only he too had left, gone off to go travelling after the Crawler attack was done. The Queen hadn't heard from him since.

It seemed fate wanted her to not ever love. It wanted her to suffer. It wanted her to break. Break into countless fragments, like a heap of broken images. That was her world.

Her world was lifeless. Nothing could heal her. The Queen had hit rock bottom.

'_What do I do? I can't lead my people out of this without help,'_ she wondered. If Ben were still around, she would've gone straight to him. He would've brought her spirits up, even if only slightly. He would reassure she could be a leader. He would bring her some beacon of hope.

Except he was gone, off in some foreign land exploring, just like he used to before he was a soldier. Her beloved Captain was gone.

The Queen started to cry, all hope of this misery ending gone. This was utterly hopeless.

She stood up, leaving the throne empty. Brushing past the guards, she ran up to her bedroom, locked the door, and let all her tears flow.

Her dark green eyes were a waterfall of sorrow. As she cried, her vision began to fade black. It didn't take long before the void took her. One thing hadn't changed. Her dreams were still filled with images of Ben being killed, just like when the Crawler attacked.

_The Queen fell to one knee, blood dripping from multiple wounds. She looked up, and saw Ben in front of her trying to help her up. He didn't see the Sentinel behind him raising its staff._

"_Ben, run!" the Queen yelled, desperately trying to get his attention before it was too late. The soldier looked behind him, only to get impaled by the staff. Blood spurted from his mouth, "O-oh pl-please he-help."_

_The Sentinel swung the staff, Ben's body sliding off and landing in a heap beside the Queen. The Queen looked on as the life left Ben's eyes. The Sentinel then struck her, putting the two together in death…_

_*Unknown Location*_

Ben Finn struggled against the chains bonding him to the wall. His hair was matted and unwashed. His clothes were stained with sweat and dirt.

"Try all you want, but even a Balverine can't break those chains," a voice said. Ben looked up, defiance in his eyes, "I'll make you pay for this."

The voice laughed coldly, "I doubt you will. You didn't even have the courage to tell her your feelings. You didn't even stick around after my master's attack failed. You're a coward."

The taunts infuriated the former soldier even more, and his struggles grew. The chains rattled louder, his grunting more frequent. The owner of the voice walked forward, "Oh, I seem to have struck a soft spot."

The voice's owner was human, but something was different. His right eye was a normal emerald green, but his left eye was black. Jet-black. Unnatural black. Peering closely, Ben saw something swirl around in the black eye before fading.

"What the hell are you?" Ben asked, his struggles ceasing for the moment. The mystery person laughed, "You may call me Aaron. I'm the spawn of the Crawler himself."

Upon hearing this, Ben froze. The Crawler had spawn?

As if he had read his mind, Aaron smiled cruelly, "That's right mortal. My master had spawn. And now, the shadows shall rise again. Albion is destroyed. Your Queen is powerless. She'll gladly let us take over that miserable place."

Ben lunged forward, the chains holding him back, "You bastard!" He might have not told the Queen where he was going, but he still cared for her. He still cared for his home.

The bastard in front of him knew it, and he was going to enjoy making him suffer. Aaron turned around, "I'm really going to enjoy watching you break into little pieces. Goodbye for now, Finn." The Crawler spawn left, shutting the door behind him and leaving Ben in total darkness.

Ben let his head hang low with defeat, "I've failed you, my Queen."

_**A/N: There we go. This is probably going to be much darker than anything I've ever written, and I think it is off to a pretty decent start. This chapter is short as it is only an intro, but they'll get longer as the story progresses. I'm pretty tempted to begin torturing Ben in the next chapter. Criticism is always welcome, but if it is going to be a flame, message me that. Leave comments, etc. Here's the question for the reviewers.**_

_**Should I begin torturing Ben in the next chapter?**_

_**I'll see you on the other side. Review?**_

_**Ja**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: What's popping~? I got several good ideas on how to make our favorite Captain and Pirate King suffer, and I'll make sure every chapter that contains torture has a warning. Like this one, for instance. Since I didn't really touch on where Reaver is, I'll clear that up by giving him a nice dose of pain. God, I really have issues. Here we go~!**_

***Chapter 2***

_*Unknown Location*_

Reaver looked at his surroundings in complete disgust. The cell was fitted with bars, bars that even the Hero of Skill could not break.

'_All because I was careless and got captured in Wraithmarsh,' _he thought irritably. His normally clean white coat was turning brown with dirt, and he really needed a shower. If he had to smell himself one more time, his gun would finally claim him as a victim.

Except his precious Dragonstomper .48 was gone, taken away from him the minute he was taken hostage.

'_That little bitch,'_ he thought angrily, referring to his captors. He was worn out from making the trek all the way out to the Shadow Court, and several anti-Hero cults still existed. Perhaps the most well known was the Cult of Blades, the ones that had captured him.

The Cult of Blades was the biggest anti-Hero cult in Albion, and they made it their life goal to exterminate anyone with Heroic blood. As they happened to find a weakened Hero of Skill in the world's most unpleasant place, it was a field day for them. The cult had wasted no time in weakening him even further, until he collapsed and woke up in here. Wherever 'here' was.

The cell door opened, and Reaver couldn't do anything as he was tied to the wall by some sort of bindings.

"I wouldn't bother trying to rip them. You'll only die tired," his captor sneered, as if she had read his mind.

The woman's face was covered by a black mask. All Reaver could make out for her facial features were her jet black eyes. They were filled with cruelty and malice. Reaver knew one thing: this woman wanted to see him suffer.

She sat down close to him, and she dug her nails into Reaver's already wounded arm.

"Now, tell me who it is," she demanded. Reaver hesitated. He could save his own scrawny neck by ratting out the Queen by telling this bitch she was the Hero they were looking for. Hell, he'd probably end up putting her out of her misery. He had heard rumors of what happened to Albion. He heard how terrible it was, with the Queen doing nothing to help.

But he remembered his past. He remembered watching Oakvale burn, the shadows claiming his home because of his own foolishness. Not anymore.

Reaver shook his head, "You'll have to do a whole lot better than that if you want to get anything from me."

The woman smiled, although Reaver saw it as more along the lines of a sneer.

"I thought you would say that. That's why, I'll be even more forceful," she said, her tone laced with venom.

_**Warning! Torture incoming!**_

The woman grabbed a pair of knives from her belt. Before Reaver knew what she was doing, he felt the blades sink into the flesh of his arm. The woman pulled, his flesh tearing apart.

Reaver let out a scream of pain as his arms started to be ripped apart. He felt them twist inside of him. The woman pulled the blades out, "Now, tell me. Where is it?"

Reaver still had his defiance in his eyes, and he spat, "I'm not telling you anything bitch!"

His snarl turned into another pained scream as the blades sank into his flesh once more, parting from his forearm to his bicep. Blood poured out of the wounds, and the Pirate King's vision began to black out from blood loss. The woman began to laugh, "I doubt you'll disobey me again."

Reaver didn't say anything, as he passed out from the pain.

_**Safe for now**_

_*Bowerstone Castle*_

The Queen woke up with a jolt. Even though it was only a dream, Ben's death seemed so real to her. It was almost like her dreams were trying to say something. They were trying to tell her he would die.

'_No! Please, anything but that!' _she pleaded mentally. The Queen got up from her spot on the floor and made her way to the bathroom.

Her green eyes were puffy and red from crying, and her dress was stained from those tears.

'_How regal,' _the Queen thought. She washed her face, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and left her room. She made her way out of the castle's front gates, not waiting for any of her guards. She headed towards town for the first time in months.

_*Bowerstone Market*_

Once the Queen was on the streets in Bowerstone, numerous loud boos were heard from the townspeople.

"You're an awful leader!"

"Tyrant!"

"Liar! You promised to save us, and look where we are! You haven't done anything!"

The Queen tried her best to ignore the insults directed at her. The people had every right to be furious. People were dying faster than the living could dig their graves. The country was in a massive decline.

She finally broke when someone yelled out, "No wonder your Captain left you."

Oh, that last insult broke her. No one ever insulted Ben in front of the Queen. This person was already regretting his choice of words as he saw the red and black wings appear from the Queen's shoulders.

"What did you just say?" she growled. Her sword was out, and pointed directly at the man's throat. Several guards noticed the scene by now and were running over.

"My Queen!" one of them tried to stop her. But it was too late. She had already swung her sword in an arc, and she cut the man's throat open, blood splashing out.

"Who's next?" the Queen growled.

_*Unknown Location*_

Ben held limply from the chains, his head low. He had failed his Queen by running away. Aaron, whatever he was, knew that, and seemed to take pleasure in tormenting the former soldier about it.

Ben heard his door open, and Aaron stepped in, the depths of his black eye swirling before fading.

"What's the matter? Are you wishing you stayed with her?" he asked mockingly. Ben raised his head, anger evident on his face.

Aaron laughed, "So, that is what will get a rise out of you."

"You bastard!" Ben growled, struggling to break the chains. The metal began to dig into the flesh of his wrists, cutting them. Ben didn't notice the blood running down his arms, not until Aaron did something he really didn't expect.

Aaron swabbed some of the soldier's blood onto his finger, and he licked it off. The black eye swirled darker than before, and the Crawler spawn laughed manically, "I'll see you again very soon Ben."

_**A/N: Heh, I wonder just how many people are pissed off at me for torturing Reaver. It was either going to be him or Ben, and since I got two reviews begging me to not do Ben, Reaver was the first victim. Anyway, leave any comments, questions, concerns, or any other thoughts you may have. I'll see you on the other side. Review?**_

_**Ja'ne**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Heh, I got quite the amount of hate mail for torturing Reaver last chapter. And now, I'm going to be expecting even more. Ben Finn is next on my list of victims, and it won't exactly be pretty. I thought I'd give you a fair warning nonetheless and here is the same boring-ass disclaimer. I don't own Fable or any of its characters. For now, that belongs to Lionhead Studios.**_

***Chapter 3***

Ben stiffened as Aaron continued to swipe his blood onto his finger. The Crawler spawn licked it off again, the black eye swirling more than ever.

"I must say, your blood is definitely something else," Aaron laughed. "I think I might want some more." He pulled out one of his knives, and slightly nicked the former soldier's arm, blood beginning to flow like a river.

Ben struggled to get away, but the chains kept him in place. Not to mention that Aaron had a hold on him as well. The Crawler spawn noticed this and laughed. "Try all you want, but you can't do a damn thing about this."

Aaron then pulled out something long and metallic, with a crackle of electricity coming from it. Ben recognized the object as a cattle prod, and due to the amount of crackling it was making, the voltage was pretty damned high.

_**Warning: torture is incoming**_

Aaron grinned manically. "Let's see how you like this." He pressed the prod to Ben's back. A current jolted through the former soldier's back, causing him to yell out in pain.

The smell of his own burnt flesh made him sick to his stomach, and Ben vomited, his insides pouring on to the floor. Aaron shook his head. "My my, you've made quite a mess Finn. I hope you do realize now it's going to be even worse now."

Aaron's black eye turned a bright blue. "Now, the real fun begins." His nails extended into claws, and he started to drive them into the soldier's back.

Ben lifted his head up and began to struggle, "Wait, can't we talk about this fir-ARGGHHHHH!" He screamed as Aaron's claws dug into his flesh, pulling it apart. Tears began to prick at his eyes as he felt his back stretch out. Ben jerked and thrashed, trying with desperation to break the chains. He bit down his next scream as he focused on trying to get free. Whatever Aaron wanted with him, the former soldier wanted absolutely no part of it. He had to get out, before they drove him to insanity.

Despite his best efforts to keep his cries contained, another scream escaped his lips as Aaron's claws pulled the wound open even farther. Now, he was using something to keep the wound apart, exposing his spine. The taste of iron filled his mouth as he snarled when the demon continued to mercilessly assault his back.

He wondered how he was conscious. Any other normal person would've passed out from the pain a long, long, time ago. Then again, most people would die if they got hit by a Shadow Minion. He could feel a long, cold, metallic _something_ poke at his spine and his breath hitched. Aaron was poking at his spine!

And, oh God, it hurt!

Compared to the burning sensation of Aaron's claws pulling his skin apart, this pain was near freezing in its intensity. Thousands of icy claws grabbed at individual nerves, forcing alignments that weren't meant to be. But there was nothing he could do to stop it, as he was chained up and the demon spawn still had a grip on him somehow. He was vaguely aware of screaming as the taste of blood rose up his throat.

And then, as soon as it had begun, it was over. The cold sensation was gone, along with the burning sensation. Ben could feel Aaron knitting his flesh back together, but something was wrong. Something suggested there was something inside of him that shouldn't be. But he couldn't move to pull it out…and then it was over.

_**Safe for now**_

Ben gasped for breath, his whole body shuddering as his senses began to reach outward again. When had he blacked out? His vision slowly returned, and he saw Aaron's hands were covered in blood. His sense of hearing returned to hear Aaron laughing manically about another successful procedure.

'_Good God, there have been others?' _he thought weakly. He saw Aaron lick the blood off of his hands, the eye swirling dark again.

Ben heard several distinct clicks, and the chains bonding him released him, but he had no strength to take any advantage of this freedom. He remained slumped on the floor, barely conscious. This was his worst nightmare.

Aaron motioned to someone in the shadows, and another form appeared. "I want this subject tested out now. Is that understood?"

The shadowy figure bowed. "Of course, my lord."

Ben coughed, and to his horror, a dark shadow came out of his mouth. Aaron laughed, "Perfect!" The Crawler spawn had turned the former soldier into one of them. Ben was now a member of the Darkness, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Aaron lifted the barely conscious soldier's chin. "Now, you will do my bidding. You will do everything I tell you, without question. Is that understood?"

Ben gasped, "Ye-yes."

Aaron straightened up. "Good. Because if you don't listen, you will experience something just as bad." To give an example, Aaron's nails extended again, and they slashed at Ben's lower thigh, blood splashing out. This earned a cry from the soldier.

Aaron then left, leaving Ben alone. For the first time, something had been forced upon him, something he didn't want. Something against his will. This was truly hell for him, and he was too weak to do anything.

_*Unknown Location with Reaver*_

Reaver flexed his arms. He was conscious again, and he felt ashamed from passing out due to having his arms split open. He should be much more resistant to pain. What happened to his tolerance?

He thought back to how this all started, back in Wraithmarsh.

_Flashback_

_Reaver exited the Shadow Court, exhausted from the effort. He paused to catch his breath, the victim of his recent sacrifice still by his side._

"_Master Reaver, perhaps we should rest awhile," he suggested. The Pirate King shook his head. "No, we must continue on back to Albion now. The Hero of Skill has some important work to do."_

"_I knew it," a female voice drawled. Reaver immediately pulled out his Dragonstomper .48, and was looking for the owner of the voice. "Who's there?"_

_A woman with a dark mask covering most of her face appeared, along with dozens of soldiers. Each soldier held a semi-automatic rifle, and they had surrounded the two. _

_Well, this is rather inconvenient," Reaver remarked as he looked at how badly outnumbered they were. _

"_At times like this, I wouldn't mind having another Hero looking over our shoulder," his servant agreed, pulling out a sword. The soldiers had managed to cut off all possible means of escape, and they were badly outnumbered. Reaver scanned to see if he could find any break in the formation. "Oh well." The Pirate King shrugged when he found none. He would have to rely on his superb sharpshooting skills to get them out of this one. _

"_This definitely is new." He frowned as he continued to look for ways to escape. His servant got his sword ready in a stance._

"_The Hero of Skill?" A cool female voice spoke up from the ring of soldiers surrounding them. With his Heroic abilities, Reaver could hear the woman's gleeful tone. A cold feeling settled into the pit of his stomach, his sixth sense screaming the word _danger _at him. "I want him alive, gentlemen," she continued._

_The need to get out of this as soon as possible overwhelmed Reaver, a feeling he was not used to feeling. He did not know why a mere voice elicited such a reaction from his instincts, but something told him to not ask questions. One of the soldiers stepped forward, his shoulder square. He pointed the gun at the two, and his finger rested on the trigger, though he didn't seem inclined to pull it just yet. _

"_We'll give you one chance to lay down your weapons and come quietly," he said. Nothing about his demeanor did anything to ease the knot forming in Reaver's stomach. Everything about this seemed wrong. When neither Reaver nor his servant made any attempts to take his offer, the man shrugged, as if he had no qualms about using force on them._

"_You take the right half and I take the left?" the servant suggested in a whisper. Reaver allowed himself to chuckle, but they had been in worse situations than this. They'd find some near mental way to manage it. In fact, Reaver began to think it was silly to get himself so worked up over a voice. Nodding his assent, they both darted forwards, maneuvering their way past the first few bullets. A part of him wondered why none of the soldiers were worried about hitting their own comrades upon missing their intended targets. Reaver began to shoot at the soldiers, moving as quickly as he could to make himself a difficult target to follow._

_His companion, however, did not have any Heroic powers, and a scream escaped his lips as a bullet tore through his flesh, followed by several more. He fell with a loud thud on the ground. Reaver was alerted to the scent of his companion's blood, and he screamed in alarm, leaving himself open to attack. Even as the servant tried to call out one last warning before his life left him, several bullets struck Reaver in the back. The chemicals within dulled his senses so much, he hardly noticed himself crashing to the ground, his world going dark._

_End of Flashback_

Reaver sighed. "Well, that ended very well." His partner was dead. His beloved Dragonstomper .48 was confiscated, and was probably in that crazy bitch's hands.

And whatever chemicals they had put in his blood had prevented him from using his Heroic abilities to get out. "Bloody cults." He hated being held captive, as he never had to experience it. He had never imagined the Cult of Blades would ever capture him. He was Reaver, after all. Then again, the minute he openly admitted to being the Hero of Skill probably set them after him.

His back was healing, as well as the wounds on his arms. "Thank God my damn healing powers still bloody work."

He was beginning to hate the color gold, and coming from a background as a pirate, that was saying something. At least as a pirate he had freedom. Here, in this cursed place, in a cell trapped, Reaver decided he abhorred the color.

A ghost of an itch began to form on the base of his neck, but as his hands were still bound, he couldn't reach. "This is really annoying me now."

Reaver sighed. He was now a prisoner for the first time of his life, and he hated it.

'_So this is what the people I captured felt like. I did this to them, and it finally came back at me,' _he thought bitterly. Whatever the Cult of Blades wanted with him, he sure as hell didn't want to be part of it.

The Cult of Blades worshipped the Darkness, and desired nothing more than to serve them loyally. They wanted the Darkness to take over Albion, but first they needed to get rid of the Heroes.

They needed to kill the Queen herself.

Reaver gave another small sigh before letting his head fall low. Hopefully, something out of tomorrow will let him get a break for freedom. Hopefully, he would be able to warn the Queen.

_**A/N: So, what do you think of this one? Ben is now a creature of the Darkness, Reaver is probably going to be submitted through some kind of pain, and the Queen doesn't know about the threat that never died: the Darkness. Leave any comments, questions, or any other concerns you may have. I'll see you on the other side. Review?**_

_**Ja'ne**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: I seriously cannot believe people actually like this story. You must love seeing me make the characters feel immense pain. Now, we go back to our favorite pirate, and his attempts to get out. Will it be successful? Meh, I don't know. Me no owns Fable; that belongs to Lionhead Studios. Here we go~!**_

***Chapter 4***

_Cult of Blades_

Reaver heard his door open again, followed by a harsh odor. He gagged, nearly losing his previous meal. "Good grief you smell terrible. Ever heard of a bath?" His snarky comment was not appreciated, and the figure punched him twice in the gut, making him double over. "Shut your mouth, you freak."

Reaver wiped his chin. "Look who's talking." Again, he was punched in the gut. Reaver's eyes began to water, making him annoyed at this person. Once he got out, he was definitely going to get his payback.

-0-

Akira walked through the Cult of Blades, eager to find out what the Hero of Skill was capable of. So far, she had been told very little, and that was not pleasing in the slightest. She wanted to know everything about him.

She entered the cell door, and saw one of her smellier soldiers punching him in the stomach. She raised her hand. "I think that's quite enough, Tyrell." The soldier reluctantly stopped hitting Reaver, and walked away. "Yes, my lady." He turned around to give a sneer at the Hero.

When Tyrell passed Akira, she turned back, wrinkling her nose. "And take a bloody bath! God, you are one disgusting individual." The soldier hurried up and left, not wanting to make her even more pissed. Akira was known for her short temper. Just ask one of her other soldiers, Mark.

Akira walked over to Reaver, her heels clicking on the floor. Reaver looked up, and scoffed. "You're not getting anything out of me." Akira let one of her nails pinch under his ribs, and Reaver flinched involuntarily. "Oh, I think I will."

Reaver brought his head back up. "I think you'll find I know exactly how to topple your bloody cult." Akira became interested by this. "Oh really? And how is that?"

Reaver allowed himself to smirk. "Jack of Blades is dead, number one. Number two, you don't have enough forces to take over any small part of Albion."

Akira put a finger to his lips. "I think you'll find out you are quite wrong." Reaver chuckled, "You seriously don't think only a few dozen men can take over a country, do you?" Akira slapped him across the cheek, his face turning red. "If I were you, I'd shut up right about now." She was furious, her palm stinging from the force of the slap. Reaver gave another smirk. "Feisty one, aren't you? I like that." His wise-ass comment was rewarded by another slap, his head jerking to the side.

"Jack of Blades might be gone, and we might not seem strong enough to take your pathetic country, but we have a sworn enemy of yours on our side," Akira informed. Reaver raised an eyebrow, curious. "And who might that be?"

"The forces of shadow. The Darkness," Akira replied. Reaver visibly stiffened. "The Crawler is dead. You have no one with that kind of power anymore." Akira laughed, her harsh voice ringing off the walls. Reaver cringed at hearing her voice. His ears were hurting.

"The Crawler was weak, misguided. His son, however, is much more powerful. He can turn people into the Darkness, as he has done with our soldiers countless times," Akira answered.

Reaver did not know how to respond to this. The Crawler had a son? And he was more powerful? And he turned people into the Darkness?

Reaver's urge to escape increased, and he started to struggle against his bonds. The bindings started to give way, but Akira was so wrapped up and she didn't notice.

'_Just a little bit more,' _Reaver thought, feeling the bindings snap. His Heroic strength kicked in, and with one final pull the bindings snapped. Akira looked up, shock evident on her face. "How…"

Reaver punched her in the jaw, knocking her out. "Because I'm the Hero of Skill for a reason, bitch." He was about to leave when he saw a very familiar object on her belt. His precious Dragonstomper .48. He grabbed the gun, twirling it in his hand before holstering it. "It's good to have you back."

Akira was not clever, and she didn't think to lock the door when she entered. Reaver stepped out of his cell and ran, leaving her unconscious body in the cell. He stopped, turned around, and locked her body inside.

'_Let's see how the bitch likes that,' _Reaver thought angrily. He left her and ran again, trying to find a way out. However, once he reached the end of the hall, an alarm started blaring, alerting all of the soldiers to a prisoner escaping.

'_Great,' _Reaver groaned inwardly. Soldiers began to pour into the hall, their rifles firing in his direction. Reaver dodged them with ease, picking off the soldiers one by one. "I'm the Hero of Skill for one reason. No one can match me in a gunfight!"

His words were certainly true. While the Cult of Blades had a number advantage on him, they were lacking skill, only taking him down when he was distracted. He would not make _that _mistake twice.

The soldier who had punched Reaver earlier had appeared, and he was cross. Reaver smirked. "Did you take a bath like your mommy told you to?" Tyrell snarled, ripped off his mask, and Reaver nearly froze at what he saw underneath.

Tyrell's eyes were jet-black, an unnatural color. His face was also very, very pale, like a creature that hasn't been in the sunlight. His breaths were able to be seen, and a dark shadow came out.

"Well, this is definitely new," Reaver muttered. Tyrell launched himself at Reaver, his nails extending into claws. Reaver rolled out of the way, and Tyrell was upon him again. he tackled Reaver, and his claws began digging into the Hero's arm. Reaver let a small cry of pain escape his lips as he fumbled for his gun. He found it, and the tide turned.

Reaver drew his arm and shot Tyrell in the head four times. The shadow soldier's body went limp on his chest, dead. Reaver struggled to get it off of him. Blood flowed from slashes in his side, but Reaver still managed to spit on the corpse. "That's for earlier."

Reaver took off once more, and the exit was close. Antagonizingly close. Reaver made a bigger dash for it, not letting up. He felt his muscles in his lower legs tear, but he kept going. He exited the Cult of Blades, and found himself in a place where he never wanted to see again.

Wraithmarsh. Or better known to him, the ruins of Oakvale.

He had been to Wraithmarsh multiple times before, as he had to visit the Shadow Court to keep his youth, but he never, ever came to this part. This was where he made his worst mistake.

This was where he condemned his own village to death.

Reaver fell to his knees as a strange mist surrounded him. A figure emerged, covered in black cloaks. A Banshee. And this one seemed to relish in his painful memories.

"_You ruined Oakvale. You let the Shadow Court take them. You let them take _her_," _it whispered. Reaver clutched his head, the images reappearing. "N-no, p-ple-please." He saw it all over again. He exited the Shadow Court, realizing his foolishness. He saw the Shadows destroy Oakvale, killing the people as they ran for their lives. He saw them kill _her_

"_You did this. You went to them. You went for eternal life," _the Banshee continued. Reaver let his pistol fall, splashing in the swamp. "P-please s-stop!"

_You continued to sacrifice. You even tried to kill off one of your own kind," _the Banshee whispered, not letting up on his torment. It enjoyed watching him suffer. Nothing gave it more pleasure.

"_You abandoned your Queen. You left your country to die. You let the Darkness take it over. You let the Queen become one of them," _the Banshee said. That last one made Reaver crack. No one _ever _said that about the Queen. He may have left her, but he was going back. No matter what.

"QUIET!" Reaver roared, snatching up his fallen pistol. He unloaded a full clip into the Banshee's body, continuing to fire until it died. The mist also faded away, and Reaver got back to his feet, breathing hard. In all his years coming to Wraithmarsh, he had never encountered a Banshee that wanted to break him that badly.

He stood up, still a bit shaken. After what he just saw, he was pretty sure anyone else would have broken. Especially when they saw their own town burn because of them. And if they nearly killed off one of their own kind.

Reaver never forgot what he did, whether it was having one of his well-known orgies or shooting people who irritated him. But this, this was something he wanted to forget, no matter what the cost. This was something that has haunted him for centuries.

This was something that only he can remember.

When he did die, if he ever decided living forever was boring, these memories will die with him. Only then would he be free of the curse. The curse of remembering when Oakvale burned.

Reaver still shook, the reality of the memories of still slightly overpowering. He never imagined it would be this bad.

He walked through Wraithmarsh, on the alert for any more Banshees or Hollow Men. If he had to fight anything, he would prefer to have the latter, as Hollow Men didn't ever bring up horrible secrets. Only, they smelled disgusting. But Reaver was accustomed to smelling horrible things and people, himself included.

'_The first thing I'm doing when I reach civilization is taking a bloody bath,' _Reaver thought. He proceeded through the rest of the marsh without any difficulties, not even finding a single Hollow Man. He reached the end, and allowed himself to breathe a small sigh of relief. He was safe. Safe from his past. Safe from the Cult of Blades.

_*Bloodstone*_

Reaver arrived in Bloodstone, and he saw it hadn't changed much in the last fifty years or so since his last visit. He walked through town, ignoring the prostitutes, as he was not in the mood or condition for sex. And that was a shock.

He saw a house for sale, and he was thankful the cult hadn't found his secret stash of 20,000 gold. He walked in, bought the house, and practically ran to the bathroom for a shower.

'_THANK GOD!' _Reaver thought as the water washed away the dirt, sweat, and dried blood from his body. The cuts on his arms were now nothing more than a few scars, the only evidence of his torture. Though, he wouldn't really call it that, as he had seen way worse. And by seen, he meant committed.

After a good thirty minutes scrubbing, he finished bathing and stepped out of the shower, not bothering with a towel. The result of this startled a maid and she had a massive blush after seeing his, well, manhood. It didn't help that it was quite large

"You know, it's rude to stare," Reaver reprimanded without looking. The maid scurried away, embarrassed.

He proceeded to get dressed, having no other choice but to wear the outfit from his pirate days. Even after all these years, it still fit. Good thing too, as he didn't have any other clothes. None on him, anyway.

Once Reaver was dressed, he put up the 'For Sale' sign on the house, leaving it. He walked down the streets of Bloodstone, continuing to ignore the prostitutes as they tried to woo him.

Reaver reached the docks, and his old ship was still there, untouched. He boarded it with a small smile. "It's been too long, hasn't it Sparrow?"

He pulled up the anchor and left Bloodstone, heading back to Albion. Back to warn the Queen of the danger that lay in store.

_**A/N: this was lacking in physical torture, as I'm sure you guys need a break from all that. Still, mental pain from Reaver is always liked right? Right? Ri-*sees Reaver's ship sink* Oh for fucks' sake…**_

_**Anyways, leave any comments, questions, concerns, or any other comments you may have. I'll try to not let Reaver's ship get blown up, sunk, or both. Review?**_

_**Ja'ne**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Sorry for forgetting about this. I kinda got sidetracked with other stories, and I didn't have the time. I don't own Fable; Lionhead Studios are the owners for now.**_

***Chapter 5***

Reaver stood behind the wheel of the _Sparrow_, the rough seas tossing the ship back and forth.

"Reaver! We can't keep running her like this much longer!" one of the crewmen yelled. Reaver took out his Dragonstomper .48 and aimed at his chest. "You will man your station, or I'll shoot you off of this ship."

The crewmen gulped, backing away from the Pirate King's gun. He didn't know that Reaver was simply the best shot since, well, ever.

Reaver holstered his gun and steered the ship, rocking slightly as a wave collided with the starboard side. "Oh bloody hell."

He then saw a flicker of dark movement out of the corner of his eye. Reaver drew his pistol, aimed, and fired three rounds. A dark, snarling creature leaped onto the deck a moment later, blood dripping from the wounds.

"Of fucking course it would be one of the Cult of Blades' pets," Reaver groaned, as the monster was a Dark Balverine. It roared before lunging at him, only for its face to meet a full clip from Reaver's gun. He spun the weapon in his fingers, confused. _'How the hell did that thing sneak aboard without me noticing?'_

He heard a low laugh, though it was dark and filled with menace. "We got you now."

Reaver turned behind him to see one of the crewmen take off his hood, revealing the mask on his face. He tore that off to reveal his black eyes, shadows coming from his mouth.

Shivers went up Reaver's spine. "You have got to be kidding me. I thought I wasn't being followed." He rolled out of the way as the shadow soldier leaped at him. The soldier stood up, two black spheres materializing in his hands. "No one ever leaves the Darkness behind, Reaver. You should know that after what you did to Oakvale."

Reaver snapped. No one gets away with mention that and escaping unscathed. "Don't you dare remind me of the fool I once was. I am Reaver, the Pirate King who ended Captain Dread's reign of the seas. I am the Hero of Skill, who helped put an end to Lord Lucien's chaos."

The Blades' soldier snorted. "Don't get too far ahead of yourself, Thief. You tried to betray your own kind twice. Not to mention you abandoned your only remaining Hero after the attack a year ago."

Reaver lost it and he emptied a full clip into the shadow soldier's chest, the body jerking with each strike. "QUIET!" The shadow soldier fell in a pool of black blood, the deck below turning black. The remaining crew members were asleep, and the fact they didn't hear the squabble was something.

Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Reaver tossed the shadow soldier's body over the edge of the ship, sending it crashing into the stormy waves below. "Waste of ammo."

He knocked on the door of the first mate, although when he knocked, the door fell off of its hinges, and he waved his pistol around in a threatening matter. "Get your lazy ass up and steer this bloody thing, or I'll put a bullet in your head!"

The first mate jumped up, and not wanting to be shot, hurried outside to take the wheel of the _Sparrow_. Reaver went to the captain's quarters, stretched his long frame over the cot, and fell into a sleep filled with nightmares.

_A young boy stood in front of the tomb, his legs shaking in fear. "I came all this way. I might as well suck it up and go." He pushed open the door, and entered the lair of the Shadow Court._

_The Shadow Court's lair was dark, and he could feel the cold air strike his skinny exposed arms he shivered slightly, party from the cold, dread-filled feeling and fear. He stepped farther inside, and he knew it was too late to turn back at this point._

_He descended the ancient stairs, the feeling of dread nearly overwhelming him now. The boy knew that if he turned back now, the villagers would probably cast him out into the swamp for entering this place. The elders always warned about the forces of shadow, how they were the most evil beings since the Court of Blades._

_And yet the boy had heard the Court would be able to help him with his greatest fear: death itself. He had no desire to die, and the concept of his life ending scared him, even more than entering this dark, evil lair._

_He arrived in a room, although nearly the entire floor was missing. Looking up, he could see the trees on the surface, but a low hissing sound brought his attention back to what was in front of him._

_Three tall, shadow beings were in front of him. The Shadow Judges themselves._

"_Welcome."_

"_Welcome."_

"_Welcome."_

_The boy shivered under the combined emotionless stares of the Shadow Judges, and his voice trembled. "I…I have a wish."_

"_What may it be?"_

"_I… I wish for eternal life. I will pay anything for my price."_

_The Shadow Judge in the middle smiled wickedly. "Your wish shall be granted boy."_

_The Judges disappeared, and from above, the boy heard several screams. The screams of the villagers._

_Realizing what he had just done, the boy ran out of the Shadow Court, running back into the village of Oakvale. The sight he saw made him fall to his knees._

_Oakvale was in flames. The villagers screamed in terror as an army of dark beings fell upon them, killing everyone. All his friends. All his family. Everyone he loved, killed because of his selfishness._

_He stayed on his knees, looking as Oakvale burned, until a Shadow Judge appeared next to him. "You said you would pay any price, but you didn't specify. This is the price of your immortality, Reaver. You must sacrifice other people's youth, or we will come for you, and you'll burn just as Oakvale has."_

Reaver woke up, gasping and drenched in cold sweat. Even though he has lived for several hundred years, that night still haunted him in every dream. It was something he could not escape. He heard a knock on his door. "Captain? We've reached Bowerstone Industrial. Awaiting your orders."

Reaver stood up, trying to shake off the effects of that dream. _'Even though it was such a long time ago, I can never forget it, no matter what I try.'_

"I'm getting off here. Bring the ship back to Bloodstone. I have no more use for you," Reaver told him. He got off of the ship, and was greeted by several rifles being pointed in his direction, although it was the Queen's Royal Guards.

"I didn't know this was target practice. Otherwise I would've painted a bullseye on my chest," Reaver muttered. The soldiers eased their stances as they recognized the former business advisor to the Queen, but they still kept their rifles ready.

The head guard, a Lieutenant, stepped forward, her red hair flowing past her shoulders. "What are you here for, Reaver?"

Reaver pulled out his Dragonstomper .48, and started to twirl it in his hands effortlessly. "I'm afraid the words I need to say are to be shared with the Queen, not you."

The woman clenched a fist. "You arrogant son of a bitch! You have no right to-"

Reaver pulled the hammer back on his gun. "I am the Hero of Skill, the Pirate King, the Thief, the names go on and on, I really don't care. But you are in no position yourself to be commanding me around. I only take orders from one person: the Queen herself."

Reaver holstered his weapon, having enough of this nonsense, and he marched through Bowerstone Industrial. "Now, if you don't mind, I have some rather important matters to discuss with the Queen."

As he walked through the streets of Industrial, he saw a rather surprising sight. People were lined up on the side, practically dying from sickness, starvation, and who knows what else.

'_Is this how bad Albion has become since I left? People are suffering like this?' _Reaver wondered. He might have been a little harsh when he owned the factories. Hell, he once shot a protestor several times in the same spot for ignoring him.

But this, this was something he did not expect. He had always thought of Albion as a bustling country, people usually having enough to feed their families. But now there were countless beggars lining the streets, some so thin it looked like they haven't eaten in a week.

All around, the villagers who were not begging were muttering rather angrily. "The Queen has done nothing for us. All she's done is sit there and be a tyrant, lying to all of us. She's a horrible leader, no better than Logan."

Reaver grew angry at this pathetic peasant, and he drew his pistol, pushing him up against one of the outside walls of a factory. He aimed his pistol against the man's sweaty head. "Don't you dare talk about the Queen like that. She is royalty, and you will respect her, or I'll want to know the reason why. You understand?"

The man glared at Reaver, only to have his eyes widen in fear as Reaver pulled the hammer back. "I said, did you understand?"

The man nodded frantically, and Reaver released him, throwing him into the river. "Disrespectful peasant."

He looked around at the small crowd beginning to gather. "Does anyone else want to join him in the river? Or be shot, I really don't care." The crowd dispersed immediately, for they still feared Reaver and his superb shooting prowess. They all remembered when he shot that protester a few years back.

He walked through the rest of Industrial, people scattering away from him in fear. They all hurried out of his way, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his bullets.

He saw the miserable state Albion was in, and he still could not believe the amount of suffering. It was never this bad when Logan ruled, but then again, he never had to deal with the Crawler destroying every single city in the country.

Reaver found himself in front of Bowerstone Castle, and he entered without knocking. One of the privileges of being who he was. As he entered, several guards noticed the Pirate King strutting around and they leveled their rifles at him. "Halt! What do you think you're doing here!?"

Reaver stared calmly at the soldiers. "I'm here to speak with the Queen on some important matters. And they are important for once, so can you please show me her quarters or wherever she is?"

The lead soldier, a blonde with a bandana over one of his eyes, lowered his pistol and nodded, although he was still mistrusting. "Follow me, Master Reaver."

Reaver followed the soldier until he was in front of a set of heavy oak doors. The man knocked lightly. "Your Majesty? Someone is here to speak with you."

"Tell them to fuck off," came the reply on the other side. Reaver pushed open the doors, to reveal the Queen hunched over her bed, looking utterly defeated. "Now, that's hardly the response for an old friend, am I right?"

The Queen looked up, and upon seeing Reaver, she practically threw him into the bedroom wall. "You son of a bitch! You just leave for a year, then come back and act like nothing happened!?"

The soldier left, not wanting to make the situation even more awkward. Reaver managed to free himself from the Queen's grip. "I have dire news, my Queen. Albion is in grave danger, and we'll need to work together again."

The Queen's eyes narrowed. "There's no other threat but me, Reaver. I'm the one who can't lead a country."

Reaver grabbed her by the waist. "No, seriously. The Darkness, it isn't gone like we thought. The Cult of Blades, they're hunting us down, killing our kind."

The Queen looked into his eyes, misery in her gaze. "Then they are welcome to take this land."

_**A/N: There we go. So, Reaver has made it to the Queen, and she doesn't want to fight for her land anymore. But will she have a change of heart? And what about Ben? You'll just have to wait and see, mwah-hah-hah-hah! I'll see you on the other side. Review?**_

_**Ja**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Sorry for my delay people! I had some other stories and work to take care of, and I didn't get a chance to update this. The fact that this is my second best story is…something different. I never expected it at all. I do not own Fable or any of its characters (except my OCs in here); Lionhead Studios are the respective owners.**_

***Chapter 6***

Reaver stumbled back, shocked as to what he just heard. "What do you mean!? You can't have given up! Albion needs you!" The Queen he knew never gave up. Had that changed?

The Queen shook her head. "I'm quite serious Reaver. This land doesn't need me on the throne. I'll only push the kingdom to its ruin even faster."

Reaver's temper was rising. "You never gave up. Never! But I guess the Queen I knew is dead, and you are her shadow." He wasn't surprised when the Queen raised a hand and slapped him across the cheek.

The Queen's eyes were filled with despair. "You don't know what I've suffered! You don't know what I've been through since you decided to leave!"

Reaver sighed and took her hand. "You're right. I don't know, but I can take a pretty damn good guess. You're mad that I left when you needed me most. You're upset because of the state of ruin Albion's in. And if I didn't know better, I'd say you're heartbroken as well."

The Queen didn't respond, and Reaver took the bait as to continue. "I was right, wasn't I? I have a good feeling I know who it is too."

The Queen looked up, her eyes cold. "Go on then."

Reaver's lips twitched before he answered. "It's your General, isn't it? The handsome, dashing, blonde General named Ben Finn."

The Queen's eyes widened. "You did know after all?" Reaver nodded, a small smirk on his face. "Please, a blind cat could have spotted it from a mile away."

The Queen sighed and held her head low. "I've failed as a ruler. I shouldn't be…I shouldn't be the one on this throne."

Reaver out his hands on her shoulders. Me wasn't exactly the best when it came to comforting, but the Queen was one of the very few people who was able to touch him in a way. "Listen, I came back. Not just to warn you, but to help prepare you. As I'm the only other Hero left in existence, I refuse to see our blood die."

The Queen looked up at the former Pirate King. "Reaver…"

Reaver shushed her. "No, you will listen to me for once, instead of the other way around. I recall you saying that you would do anything to save your people, do anything to be their Hero. Now is that chance."

The Queen looked around the royal bedroom, stopping of the painting of the Hero of Bowerstone, her mother Sparrow. Reaver knew who it was since they had 'interactions' with each other back in Bloodstone.

The Queen sighed and wiped her eyes before standing up. "I'm not going to leave my country. If you say this is true, that the Darkness is not dead yet, and the Cult of Blades is hunting us, then we'll be ready for them."

Reaver's mouth twitched upwards. "Now that's the Queen I knew. Although her bosom wasn't as big…"

"Reaver!"

"Just making an observation, my Lady."

Rolling her eyes, the Queen exited the room, Reaver behind her. She walked into the Throne Room, where the blonde soldier who escorted the Pirate King to the Queen was waiting. The man snapped to attention. "My Queen, Master Reaver."

The Queen nodded. "At ease Major. Report; I want the full details." Reaver was confused. The details for what?

The Major bowed his head. "I'm sorry, but I regret to inform you that General Finn's trail went cold after reaching a costal island about twenty miles from Aurora. Our scouts have not spotted anymore traces of him."

The Queen shook her head. "No, I refuse to believe he's gone. Not until I see his body with my own eyes." The Major sighed. "My Queen, if Captain Red and her squad didn't find anything, than that's not good. Something is erasing that trail, and I'm suspicious. I recommend we send a small force out to find any signs of life."

The Queen stood up, jerking her head. "I'm going. Reaver, you too." The Hero of Skill merely smirked as he followed her. "With pleasure, my Queen." The Major stood at attention until the Queen spoke to him. "Alex, I'll need you with me. Jasper will look over for me in my absence."

The Major, now named Alex, snapped off a crisp salute. "Yes Ma'am. Will it be the three of us?"

The Queen nodded her authority. "Yes. Tell Red that she's in charge for now of the army."

Alex saluted again and left, leaving the two remaining Heroes alone. Reaver casually walked up to her. "So, are you finally feeling different? It's seems more fun than to sit around crying all day."

The Queen gave him a harsh glare. "Shut it Reaver. I'm going to get Ben back, no matter what the cost!" She spun on her heel and left, leaving Reaver alone.

The Hero of Skill sighed and leaned against one of the pillars in the Throne Room, looking up at the decorated ceiling. "I fear that Ben may already be gone."

_Unknown Island with Ben_

Ben was being dragged by Aaron, the Crawler spawn having a death hold on his neck.

"Come on vermin. I don't have all day," Aaron ordered, pushing Ben along further. The former soldier smelled something putrid. It was the smell of a thousand rotting corpses, and it made Ben gag, vomiting on the ground.

As the soldier stopped, Aaron walked up to him and leaned close. "I thought I told you to get moving!" His nails extended in a heartbeat, and they sliced Ben's thigh open, a splash of blood flowing from the wound.

Ben let out a weak, pained cry escape his lips, and Aaron looked like he was about to do worse when a female voice rang out. "Aaron, that's quite enough. I want him alive for future situations."

Aaron bowed, his chest touching the floor. "Of course, Akira." The Crawler spawn tossed Ben forward, and he landed in a heap on the floor. Judging by the crack his hand made upon contact, it was most likely broken.

Ben blinked the tears away, and he coughed, a black shadow coming from his mouth. The shadow wrapped around his hand, and the pain faded away, the injury fully healed.

The owner of the female voice appeared, and she had a new shiner on her jaw, the injury covering most of her lower jaw. Ben tried to look defiant. "Nice shiner. Makes you look even prettier." His remark was met with a pair of nails digging into his arms, making the former soldier yelp in pain.

Akira raised a hand, signaling for Aaron to stop. "Enough! I don't need him dead yet!"

Ben struggled to sit up, only to watch as Akira's eyes glowed blue and Ben was hovering upright in the air, suspended by nothing. Akira's eyes faded to their normal black and Ben fell again on the floor. Akira shook her head. "My, you don't learn at all, do you?"

Her eyes glowed blue again, hoisting the soldier into the air once more. This time, when she released him, Ben landed clumsily on his feet. Akira's lips parted in a cold smile. "Now that's a whole lot better, don't you think?"

Ben glared at her, but was unable to do anything as he was still chained up. "What are you?"

Akira laughed, the harsh sound ringing off the walls and hurting Ben's ears. He began to regret asking the question. Akira stopped to stand up even taller, tilting Ben's head back with one of her hands. "I'm an anti-Hero, from the Void. Descendant of the infamous Jack of Blades himself." Ben was confused. "Who the bloody hell is that? Sounds like a fool's name."

Akira smacked Ben hard across the face, and he turned to face her again. Akira raised a finger. "Wrong answer Finn."

Ben continued to glare at her as she sat down in a chair, while he was expected to stand. Akira crossed her legs. "You have information we need. Give it to us, and we'll set you free."

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Tell me what it is first."

Akira's lips parted again. "Where's the Queen and Hero of Skill?"

Ben snorted. "How the hell should I know? I haven't been in Albion for awhile, so I'm afraid I cannot answer that." _'If they want to do the same thing to the Queen, they'll have to get through me first.'_

Akira sauntered in front of Ben. "Tell me now, for no one can ever leave the Darkness behind. Not even a Hero."

Ben looked up, defiant. "I'm not saying anything to you!"

Akira sighed dramatically. "Oh well. It was worth a shot." She turned to Aaron, still waiting patiently. "Clean this fool up. Put him in the Crucible. Let's see how long this defiance of yours lasts, Finn." With a flick of her fingers, Ben was dragged away to the Crucible. Whatever that was.

_Bowerstone Industrial_

Reaver, Alex, and the Queen were standing at the docks, looking at the ship they would be using.

"Well, I'll be damned," Reaver whispered. The ship was massive, and it had five rows of cannons on each side, more than enough firepower to gut any ship roaming the seas. The ship was named the _'Albion'_, and it was painted gold and blue. The Queen boarded the ship before facing Reaver. "We'll need a crew. Do you have anyone?"

Reaver smirked as he saw his ship still in port, with several parties happening on the decks. "Oh, yes I do. Just a moment dear."

The Queen watched as Reaver walked over to his ship, yelled at the crew, and walked back with everyone following behind him. It was clear his presence was still something to be feared.

As Reaver got back on the _'Albion' _, he pointed to the large group of men below. "You asked for a crew, but you never specified in they were to be sober and clean."

The Queen rolled her eyes and brushed past Reaver, stopping in front of the men. "Are any of you up to sailing around on a quest with me and my men? I'm not going to lie to you. It will be dangerous, and I can't guarantee all of you will live to tell the tale. But, do you have the courage to try?"

The men raised their hands in the arm, cheering. "Hell yeah!"

The Queen narrowed her eyes. "Good. Then get onboard and start working!" She turned back to Reaver. "You're needed at the helm of this bloody thing."

Reaver smirked and took the wheel of the ship. "Of course, My Queen." He let his face turn serious before he opened his mouth again. "Elizabeth, I have a question. What will you do if Ben is worse than dead? What if he's nothing more than an empty shell?"

The Queen paused. She hadn't given any thought to that possibility. What if her beloved General was broken into a weak, whimpering mess? She shook her head furiously, trying to banish those thoughts from her fragile mind. "No… I refuse to let that happen. I'll never let Ben become like that! Not if I can do anything to stop it!"

The Queen marched to her quarters, and Reaver watched her go, a sad look on his face. As he steered the ship into the open waters surrounding Albion and headed for the island, he could only hope one thing: that it would not be too late to save Ben from a terrible fate.

_**A/N: Well, how was it? I know this is slightly shorter than the previous chapters, but in my defense it is getting late, and I barely had any sleep this week. Feedback of any kind is appreciated, and I'll see you soon.**_

_**Ja**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Hey guys, this is part of my triple update day, with the finale of 'A Hyper-Lethal Hero' being the main event. I'm happy that this fic has gotten feedback and positive response, and I'll try to write for this more often. I do not own Fable or any of its characters; that is the property of Lionhead Studios**_

***Chapter 7***

Reaver twirled his pistol, seated beside the Queen as they sailed for the unknown island off the coast of Aurora. According to what the blonde Major aboard said, Ben Finn's trail led to there before disappearing mysteriously. What, or who, could have thwarted the best trackers in Albion? Reaver wasn't too sure he wanted to find out.

Still, as the ship lurched from the constant pounding of the waves, he found himself growing weary. He had been alive for how long? Three hundred years? Reaver had cheated death for quite a long time, but now he wasn't so sure it was for the best.

'_After all this, is immortality really worth all of this trouble?' _he wondered. He snapped out of his thoughts when the Queen looked in his direction. "Reaver, can you please get my something heavy to drink?"

That question surprised him. In all the time he had known the Queen, never had he ever seen her even look at alcohol. Reaver raised an eyebrow. "When did you start drinking? I'm rather curious."

The Queen narrowed her eyes. "Dammit Reaver, just get me that damn drink!" Reaver smirked and obliged, heading below decks. He paused, looking at the inventory. "Hmm, we have Auroran Rum, Bowerstone Gutter Beer, Any Port in a Storm, and more rum. Why rum?"

"Because that's what the Queen likes to drink," a matter-of-fact voice said behind him. Reaver whirled around, drew his pistol, and relaxed when he saw it was just the blonde Major. The Major grunted. "Shit, if this was target practice I would have painted a bullseye on my chest."

Reaver holstered his weapon. "Terribly sorry, just an awful habit of mine. I like to shoot first and ask questions later. Now, what were you saying about the Queen?"

The Major leaned against one of the pillars. "She started drinking about a year ago, just after the Crawler attack. Talk about one hell of a shock. I guess when she saw just how devastated we were, even with our army, she began to drink in despair. Rather sad, actually."

Reaver snorted. "You don't say." He narrowed his eyes. "Hang on a second. I thought Albion's army was very powerful by the time of the attack. At least, that's what my memory suggests."

The Major shook his head. "We were, but the Darkness still managed to overrun our positions in Aurora, Mistpeak, and even Millfields. It was all we could do just to hold Bowerstone Market, for Avo's sake. The amount of soldiers lost was a large amount. I say we lost at least 5 million men and women that day. Talk about a massacre."

Reaver, who had taken the Port, spit out a bit of his drink. "WHAT!? How the hell did that happen!?"

The Major sighed. "We weren't ready, I guess. And with the Queen as fragile as she is, I doubt we can handle another massive blow before she goes out."

Reaver grabbed the Auroran Rum, as it was more exotic, and began heading back on deck. "Well, it was certainly nice to sit and chat with you, but I'm afraid I must deliver this drink to the Queen, or she will probably throw me overboard."

The blonde chuckled. "See to it then. We don't need to lose the only other Hero, do we?" Reaver felt a slight shiver race up his spine, and he didn't know why. Maybe it had to do with that bandana around one of the Major's eyes. What was he hiding?

'_Nah, I'm probably imagining it,' _Reaver thought dismissively. He shrugged the feeling off and headed back on deck, and he hurried to give the Queen her rum. "Here you are, My Queen. Auroran Rum. I got it because I heard that was your preference."

The Queen took the drink from his hands. "Well, you heard right. Thank you, Reaver." She took the cap off and poured a bit of the liquid down her throat. She wiped her chin. "That's a bit better."

Reaver took a swig of his own drink. "When did you take up this unusual habit of yours, My Queen? If you don't mind me asking."

The Queen narrowed her eyes. "It started…I'd say a week after the Crawler attack. When I saw just how destroyed Albion was, I needed something to drown my failures in."

"And you are how old, exactly?"

"21."

Reaver sighed. "It's been that long since I first met you then, huh? 3 years, if I'm right."

The Queen narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, you made me and Page go through Hell and back in your mansion. Then you invite us for sex, of all things."

Reaver shrugged. "Well, the invite was directed towards you, if you must know." The Queen groaned and rubbed her temples. "Lovely. I regret asking that."

"The offer still stands, if you're interested," Reaver said innocently. The Queen clenched her fist. "I swear, if you make that offer one more time, I will throw you off this ship and make you swim your ass to the location."

Seeing she was serious, Reaver shut up and took the wheel of the ship, steering it against the waves. The Queen looked out across the open ocean. _'Ben, please be okay. I'm coming for you, I promise.'_

_Unknown Location_

Ben was dragged into a room of sorts, where a medic taped up his wounds. "Easy fella. If you die too quickly, Akira won't be pleased. So, I'm being nice and giving you some strength potions. You're gonna need it."

"Why?" Ben asked, not drinking the liquid, as he was very suspicious of the medic's intent. For all he knew, it might be a poison.

The medic sighed and looked around, making sure they were alone. "Can you keep a secret?" Ben nodded, unsure as to where this was going. "Akira is trying to resurrect Jack of Blades to kill all the remaining Heroes. As far as I know, only two are left: the Queen of Albion and the Hero of Skill. I'm trying to make sure that doesn't happen, by working under her command and passing information to several military officers in Albion."

Ben crossed his arms. "You're an informant?" The medic nodded. "Yes, now take the damn potion, as you're about to enter the Crucible's parade of almost certain death. Few ever survive it."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "What the hell is it?" He figured the sooner he got out of this demented hellhole, the quicker he could relay the information he received to the Queen.

"The Crucible is an arena, with eight rounds on nonstop fighting. If you pass the end battle, you have to fight the reigning champion. Let's just say the current record holder hasn't lost once yet. Not ever," the medic replied.

A loud knock sounded on the door, and a cold female voice asked, "Well Jason? Is our subject ready to fight?"

The medic nodded. "He is, Akira. Whenever you need him, he'll be ready."

"Good." Akira grabbed Ben's throat, and clamped an iron chain on him before dragging him out. "I'll talk to you later, Jason."

Akira dragged Ben along, smiling sadistically. "Now Ben, be a good boy and not die, will you?" Her voice was sickly sweet, almost like poisoned chocolate. To say it hurt the former Captain's ears was an understatement. Ben glared at her back. "Oh yeah? And what if I do?"

Akira stopped and slowly turned around, sending shivers up Ben's back as she locked her black gaze with his own. "Oh, I don't think you want to know what would happen, my dear Ben."

"Quit calling me like a damn dog! I'm not your little bitch!" Ben snarled, losing his patience. He began to regret it as Akira yanked on the chain and slammed him into a wall. A small scream of pain escaped Ben's lips as he felt something break, followed by the pain of it healing instantly. As he lay down, panting, Akira forced him to look up. "Oh, dear Ben. You are in no position to be talking like that to your masters. After all, we don't want to have Aaron get involved, do we?"

"Is that a threat?" Ben growled, his eyes turning dark in an instant. Akira smirked. "Oh no. it's a promise. There's quite a difference, Finn."

"Tell me something I don't already know," Ben growled angrily. Akira's nails sharpened and sliced his arms open, blood flowing from the wounds. As Ben squirmed in pain, Akira leaned closer. "Your little lover has an experiment of ours. The little bastard escaped, but no one ever leaves the Darkness behind."

'_What does she mean by that? Who does she mean by my 'little lover'?' _he wondered. Then it hit him. The Queen.

"If you lay one finger on her, I'll make sure you regret it," Ben hissed, his temper rising. Akira held her sharpened nails in front of his face. "One more word, and I'll rip those damn vocal chords of yours out? Do you understand!?"

Seeing she was incredibly pissed, Ben decided to not taunt her any farther. He wanted to get through this hellhole as quickly as possible. _'I'm gonna have to make a break for it soon.'_

Akira picked him back up and began dragging him again. "Don't even bother trying to escape. Not even a Hero can break those chains."

'_But I'm not a Hero, am I? Thanks to you bastards, I'm something worse,' _Ben thought in slight amusement. He wondered, with his Darkness abilities, would he be able to break away?

Ben summoned his power, his blue eyes turning black in a heartbeat. Akira turned around. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised that you attempted to use your new power to break out. But, I'm afraid it's all for naught." Akira's eyes flashed bright blue, and red and black wings sprouted from her shoulders, a small circle of flames surrounding her body. Ben stepped back. _'Shit. This is not good.'_

Akira smiled wickedly. "Well Ben? Still want to try and fight me?"

Ben hesitated. By the looks of it, Akira could clearly kick his ass from wherever here was to Mistpeak. But, he wasn't going to put up with being her slave any longer.

'_I'll tear her to pieces, and then I'll go back to Albion,' _Ben thought. With his mind made up, he extended his claws. "Yes!"

With a snarl, he leapt at her, slicing wildly. Ben was hoping he would be able to knick a vital artery and make the anti-Hero bleed to death.

But luck was not on his side, for Akira was much quicker than he was, easily dodging his attacks. A sword materialized in her hands, and with a snarl she swung it at Ben. Ben barely got his claws in the way, feeling the blade deflect off of his new manicures. _'These are stronger than they look, then. Interesting. Perhaps I can turn the tide with this.'_

Ben's eyes swirled black, and he charged Akira, ducking under her blade to slice her arm open. As a shriek of pain escaped Akira, Ben leapt at her, trying to find her throat and end this fight.

Akira rolled out of the way and swung her sword, catching him with the blunt side and knocking him into the wall. Ben struggled to get up, and he felt the cold metal of Akira's sword against his throat. He looked furiously into those emotionless black eyes of the anti-Hero. "You'll never defeat the Queen. She'll end your reign of terror."

Akira laughed harshly, slicing the former Captain's throat open. "Nice last words, Finn. Pity I didn't get to see you die in the Crucible, though. " Ben's blood splashed on the ground, pouring out, and Akira left him there, bleeding out.

As the light began to fade from Ben's eyes, he could only find regret. _'I failed you, my Queen.'_

_**A/N: Haha! I left you guys guessing! Is Ben truly dead? And what about the mysterious Major aboard the Queen's ship? What secret does he hide? Wait and you'll find out! I'll see you later!**_

_**Ja'ne**_


End file.
